BSI Chapter 65 Everyone Fights Over It
Chapter 65 Everyone Fights Over It
"You little brat, I think you deserve a beating. Has your dad not disciplined you in a long time and wants your uncle to loosen your skin for you?"
"How dare you call me a dog! But since you brought me wine today, I'll let you off the hook for now."
After making his joke, Yuchi Gong didn't hesitate any longer. With a slap of his palm-leaf fan, he simply shook open the mud seal on the jar.
In an instant, a rich, invigorating, and multi-layered aroma of wine suddenly burst forth, sweeping through the entire main hall like a tidal wave and lingering there.
Yuchi Gong held the wine jar, closed his eyes slightly, took a deep breath, and the fierce aura of the battlefield around him quietly softened.
A faint redness appeared in his weathered eyes, revealing the deep-seated melancholy and longing in the veteran's heart.
"I've spent my whole life fighting on the front lines, licking blood from the edge of a knife, and all I ask for is a good drink."
His voice deepened, carrying the weight of years, "So many old brothers have buried their bones on the frontier, yet they have never tasted such fine wine worthy of their heroic souls. If they were still here, we would certainly drink with them to our hearts' content."
The atmosphere in the hall suddenly became quiet.
The Cheng brothers stood by with their hands at their sides, not daring to disturb them.
They grew up listening to their fathers recount stories of the battlefield, and knew that these were not mere polite words, but the most sincere sentiments of veterans who had survived countless battles.
A moment later, Yuchi Gong raised his hand to wipe his face, suppressing the surging emotions in his heart, and his expression returned to its usual sternness.
His gaze swept over Cheng Chumo's calm and composed demeanor, and then, thinking of his three good-for-nothing sons, his brows furrowed instantly.
From the backyard, a furious roar suddenly exploded, making the window frames tremble slightly: "Baolin, Baoqi, Baohuan! Get the hell out here!"
Before long, three young men, disheveled and stumbling, rushed into the main hall, each looking flustered and completely lacking the demeanor of scions of noble families.
Yuchi Gong raised his hand and pointed at Cheng Chumo, his voice stern and his aura intimidating: "Look at the eldest son of the Cheng family!"
At a similar age to you, they already know how to make friends with capable people, manage important matters, and take on responsibilities independently while sharing family burdens!
"And look at the three of you, spending your days wandering and playing, completely oblivious, without making the slightest progress!"
He is straightforward and fiery, without beating around the bush or rambling on. He doesn't offer unnecessary lecturing or preaching; he simply points out the difference in a single sentence.
"From today onwards, you will go out with Chumodo, travel around, and broaden your horizons. Learn from others how to recognize people and make friends, and learn to handle matters with discretion. Don't waste your days confined to the mansion."
Yuchi Gong's eyes sharpened, his tone carrying an undeniable authority, "Behave yourself, follow the rules, and humbly seek guidance. If you cause trouble, act rudely or recklessly outside, I will not let you off easily when you return!"
The three sons were so frightened that they immediately lowered their heads and bowed, responding in unison without daring to utter a sound.
The youngest, Yuchi Baohuan, was the boldest. He peeked out and asked in a low voice, "Brother Cheng, can we go with you to the farm to meet the winemaker?"
Seeing this, Cheng Chumo stepped in to defuse the situation, smiling gently: "It's alright. The farm is peaceful. As long as you follow the farm rules, you are always welcome to visit, my dear brothers."
He then took out the mulberry bark paper he had prepared with him and got to the point: "Uncle Yuchi, this wine is produced in very limited quantities and is not sold in bulk."
A jar of state-level wine costs fifty strings of cash and requires a deposit to reserve; the wine can only be picked up after the aging period is complete.
Without even blinking, Yuchi Gong waved his hand and said, "Order three jars! Pay the deposit immediately!"
He was generous and extravagant, never caring about the amount of money, only about his favorite wine.
Director Cheng wrote down the reservation form, noting the number of altars and the deposit, and handed it over with both hands.
Yuchi Gong casually tucked the wine into his robes, then solemnly instructed, "Keep a low profile about where this wine came from, and don't let that old fox Changsun Wuji find out."
"At your father's banquet last time, I saw his eyes darting around; he clearly had ill intentions. This man is cunning and scheming; if we get involved, it might disturb the peace and quiet of the master brewer."
Cheng Chumo felt a chill run down his spine and solemnly clasped his hands in a gesture of respect, making a mental note of it.
After bidding farewell to the Duke of E's residence, the two rushed to the residences of Qin Shubao and Fang Xuanling.
Qin Shubao was gentle and reserved, with a dignified demeanor.
He took the wine jar, first carefully examined its appearance, then gently smelled the lingering fragrance of the seal, and nodded slightly in approval, his demeanor composed and measured.
Without fanfare or elation, they immediately ordered five state-level altars and quietly paid a deposit, displaying a calm and dignified demeanor befitting a prestigious family.
As the prime minister of the court, Fang Xuanling was decisive and efficient in his actions.
Having just returned home from court, before even changing out of his official robes, he took the wine jar, opened it, and poured himself a small half-cup, observing its color, smelling its aroma, and tasting it all in one smooth motion.
He put down his wine cup and uttered only two words: "Good wine."
He then took out two gold ingots and placed them on the table, saying in a calm tone, "Order two jars first. If the taste continues to improve, we will order more."
After a morning of running around, we secured ten jars of state-level liquor from just three prestigious institutions.
According to the regulations set by Wang Zhihuan, only five jars of wine were to be served for state guests each month. These ten jars directly took up the entire quota for the first two months.
Cheng Chuliang stared at the numbers on the mulberry paper, gasped, and exclaimed in shock, "Brother, these are incredibly popular! All the spots are gone in just one morning?"
"As Young Master Wang said, things are valued for their rarity."
Cheng Chumo carefully folded the receipts and put them away close to his body, his eyes calm. "Strictly abide by the rules. Once sold out, we will stop. We will never increase the quantity without authorization."
We'd rather have distinguished customers waiting in line than ruin the reputation of our wines for the sake of making more money.
Along the long street, horses trotted along at a leisurely pace. The morning breeze blew through the streets and alleys, and merchants called out their wares, scholars chatted idly, and pedestrians came and went, creating a scene of bustling prosperity in Chang'an.
As Cheng Chumo rode his horse, gazing at the bustling city before him, a profound sense of transformation suddenly welled up within him.
He was no longer a spoiled brat relying on his father's glory; he had already established his own way of life and his own foundation.
From this day forward, the banquet tables of the powerful and wealthy in Chang'an are destined to be quietly reshaped by this jar of farm-brewed wine.
As dusk fell, the setting sun painted the western sky and flowing clouds red.
The Cheng brothers rode their horses out of the Golden Gate and headed straight for the farm outside the city. The bamboo basket beside the saddle was still secure. He was not there to deliver samples, but to settle accounts and report the day's events.
He dismounted by the hitching post, pushed open the half-closed courtyard gate, and Ah Huang immediately came running over wagging its tail, circling affectionately around his ankles.
Little Blackie under the stone bench lazily lifted its eyelids, then curled up and buried its head in its sleep. Grayie perched on Wang Zhihuan's shoulder, like a soft woolen scarf, languid and quiet.
Wang Zhihuan was squatting under the jujube tree, slowly turning over the soil at the base of the wall with a small shovel, looking relaxed and radiating the tranquility of the rural courtyard.
"Brother Wang, please take a count."
Cheng Chumo walked to the stone bench and sat down. He took out a neatly folded piece of mulberry paper from his pocket, spread it out gently, and then placed the heavy money bag on the table.
"Today, three jars of samples were delivered, one each to Lord Yuchi, Lord Qin, and Lord Fang. Ten jars of state guest grade were ordered on the spot, and the deposit of 250 strings of cash was collected in full. In addition, the agreed authorization fee is also here."
The afterglow of the setting sun fell on the stone table, and the gold and copper coins gleamed with a warm, soft light, making the writing on the paper clear.